Tag Archives: breastmilk

Motherhood is…

Motherhood is…
Catching my husband’s cold and putting my faith in my breastmilk. That it will protect my baby from this mucous mess. It is washing my hands feverishly every five minutes to slay the wicked germs crawling all over my skin. It is realizing, with a little squeaky cough and a sniffle, my baby’s got it, too. My heart aches with the unfairness of it all. He must be thinking, ” So this is life, huh?”

Motherhood is…
Rocking my crying fifteen pound bundle as he kicks and wiggles in his discomfort. I rock, stand and bounce, although I haven’t even the energy to pick up a toothbrush. I lie down, still jiggling my sick munchkin. He falls asleep tucked in the crook of my elbow, his head on my arm. I stifle my coughs and my sneezes. He burrows deeper into the cave-like cradle of my arms. My limbs begin to fall asleep. I realize I have to pee. But it can all wait. The world is on hold. My discomfort disrobed, for the love of my babe.

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Taking one for the team or Thank you breastmilk

Spencer came down with a cold on Monday.  By Thursday, he was completely couch-bound, the “wig wag” of Dana’s dog tail on his leg, too painful to tolerate.  On Friday night, it was my turn…

We’re both terrified of Henry getting sick.  Spencer didn’t touch the baby or get even close to him for two days.  For me, that’s not an option.

Thank goodness for the grace and wisdom of mother nature, because miraculously, Henry hasn’t gotten sick…yet.  When I get sick before Henry, my body makes the antibodies for whatever virus I have, and prepares them in an elixir that contains everything a baby needs nutritionally for the first six months of life.  Thank you, breastmilk, for keeping my baby healthy to the chagrin of the germs floating in the air.

 

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